Welcome to Degrassi
by xXxThe Phantom's RosexXx
Summary: It's Clare's senior year, and she just moved to Degrassi. At first she assumes she'll be miserable at her new school without her friends, but then she meets Eli Goldsworthy...and everything changes.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I had this dream last night, and decided to write a fanfiction of it. This story is AU but the characters are mostly the same. I do not own Degrassi, but I'd gladly accept Eli Goldsworthy! Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated. Enjoy! **

Chapter One

Clare Edwards sighed and stared out the window of her mom's station wagon. Everything was so new to her. Clare was starting to feel as though she had been dumped off in a different universe. She wished her mom would just turn the car around and smile and say, "Just kidding!" But Clare knew that wouldn't happen.

"Cheer up," her mom nudged her, encouragingly, "It won't be that bad. Lots of students transfer in and out of schools. You're not the first, Clare."

"But it's my senior year," Clare objected, "Why couldn't you have waited to move until after I graduated from Frost?"

"Clare!" Her mother shot her a glance, "Don't be selfish! You know I couldn't stay in that town – not after your father left us. I needed to get away, and start fresh – and that is just what we are doing. I have my new job started up at the newspaper, and you're going to have a great year at your new school."

"It's not FHS," Clare sighed, "Mom, Ali and I had plans for our senior year!"

"And you can still go visit her, Clare. It's only two hours away."

"Two hours feels like a lifetime," Clare knew she was being immature, but she felt as though her whole world was speeding up and she was slowing down. She just wanted to scream for everything to stop, to let her have time to catch her breath.

"Clare," her mother shook her head, "I don't know what to say to you. Do you think this whole thing has been extremely easy on me?"

"You're the one doing this to us," Clare reminded her.

Her mother sharply inhaled, and Clare knew she had hit a nerve. But she didn't really care at this point. Her mom had taken her away from her friends, her school – everything she had ever known. She didn't want to do this. She wanted to turn around and run the whole two hours.

The station wagon pulled up the brick building, and Clare groaned. The school was swarming with students, and she didn't know a single one of them. She felt a pang of nerves eat away at her stomach. Clare had to gulp to keep from throwing up. She felt physically and emotionally sick fro mthe stress.

"Just be yourself, sweetie!"

Clare knew her mom was nicely trying to shove her out of the station wagon. She couldn't just sit there forever. Clare mustered up all the courage she could manage, and grabbed her backpack from the backseat.

"Have a good one, Mom," Clare waved before shutting the car door behind her.

She watched as the station wagon pulled away, and she suddenly began to feel even more alone. In the whole school, she didn't know anyone. There wasn't a familiar face to greet her, or ask her how her summer had been. She was completely and totally alone.

Clare hiked her backpack onto her shoulder and pulled out the folded piece of paper from her pocket. Her school schedule for the semester. Her first class was Drama and it was in room 311 – the third floor. This new school felt so big, so strange to her. Clare shook her head, trying to get the nerves to go away, and headed up the front steps to the doors.

Clare knew no one was really staring at her, but she couldn't help but feel like they were – like she was something new that everyone was curious about. She had been at Frost since Frost Elementary School, and she had known her friends for what seemed like forever. Now, she was the new girl and didn't know a soul. She was a stranger in a sea of strangers.

She found her assigned locker, and put her books away. The halls were filled with laughter and conversation, and she couldn't help but wonder what she'd be doing if she were back at Frost High. She would probably be gossiping with Ali as they headed to their first class together. She could imagine how Ali would be raving about the new outfit she h ad purchased and how her new earrings complimented the outfit perfectly.

Clare had always been a tad annoyed with Ali's incessant talk of clothes and accessories and boys; but now she wanted nothing more than to be listening to Ali go on and on. She missed her best friend so much.

After putting her books away, Clare made her way to the third floor. She had gotten to school early, a habit of hers, and she was eager to get to her first class and just sit down in her seat. Clare wanted to be anywhere but the overly-crowded, loud hallway.

She found Room 311, and headed inside. The walls were plastered with posters of Shakespeare, and there was a small stage off to the side of the large classroom. Clare sat down in a desk right towards the back of the classroom, and pulled out her binder and textbook. Class would be starting in about five minutes, and no one was in the classroom but her.

After a few minutes, the classroom began to swarm with students. Everyone was laughing and talking and shoving and Clare just wanted to melt into a puddle. She tried to keep her head down and not directly look at anyone. At Frost, she had finally come out of her shell. Here, she felt as though she had regressed back to her shy, antisocial self.

The classroom was filling up, and pretty soon, mostly all the seats were taken. About a minute before class, a boy walked through the door, scanned the classroom, and chose the empty seat next to her. Clare, who had kept her eyes down the whole time, couldn't help but glance over to see who had entered. He was wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and a black hoodie jacket. His dark brown hair fell into his green eyes and his nose was peppered with pale freckles. Clare wondered how long she had stared, and quickly turned her attention back to her textbook.

"Reading the textbook _before_ class starts?" He asked, and Clare glanced up, embarrassed.

"I-I was just…"

"…being a good little student?" He smirked and raised an eyebrow. Clare blushed as she realize he was teasing her, "Oh, don't look at me like that," he rolled his eyes, "If you want to sit there and read your textbook, that's fine by me. You're new here, huh?"

"Yeah," Clare closed the book, "I just moved here."

"Well, welcome to Degrassi. Eli Goldsworthy, at your service."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"I'm Clare," Clare offered him her hand to shake, and Eli stared at it as if she were a leper, before accepting the handshake.

"So why did you move to Degrassi, Clare?" Eli asked, curiously.

"My dad filed for divorce last winter. The divorce was kind of messy for my mother, and she just wanted to have a fresh start in a new town with new people. She got a job working at the newspaper, and I get dragged here and transferred into Degrassi," Clare made a face.

"Aw, we're not _that_ bad," Eli smirked.

"It's not Degrassi personally," Clare explained, "It's that I have to be away from all my friends."

Eli nodded, "I transferred here last year. It doesn't take too long to make friends here. We have all kinds of people, surely you'll find your niche."

"Thanks, Eli," Clare smiled.

"Sure thing. Hey, if you need someone to eat lunch with or something, you can always come eat with my friends and me. I think you'll like them."

"Alright, thank you so much," Clare was appreciative of his offer.

"No problem. We're all a bunch of misfits, so I am sure the girl that reads her textbook before the class even starts will fit right in."

Clare made a face at him, and was going to say something else but the teacher walked in just as she was about to.

"Alright, class. My name is Mrs. Winston, the drama teacher. As you all know, this is an advanced drama class, reserved for seniors only. It is a privilege to be in this class, and it a privilege for me to be teaching you all. We are going to be putting on a school play this year," Mrs. Winston explained, "And I think we all know who the writer and director is going to be."

Everyone turned and stared at Eli. Clare looked around nervously and felt as though she had just missed an inside joke.

"Eli Goldsworthy did such a great job on our play last year and he has been accepted into one of the top schools for theater in the US. Eli, I hope you don't mind taking on the role of writer and director again?"

"No problem, Mrs. Winston," he nodded to her, "I can have something typed up at the end of September for you to proof."

"Thank you," Mrs. Winston smiled towards him, and Clare could tell he was one of the prized students in the theater group, "Alright class, I am going to pass out the course syllabus, and then we can watch the DVD of last year's performance."

Eli leaned over to Clare, "Theater kind of means a lot to me," he explained to her, "At first, when I was asked to write the school play last year, I had no idea what I was doing. But as I got into it, I realized that it was something I was really passionate about."

"That's really cool," said Clare, clearly impressed, "I don't think I have any big passions."

"Do you like to write?" Eli asked, "I could always use an assistant. Of course, your name would be on the program and I'd give you a cut of all the glory," he was smirking, and Clare couldn't help but smile. That smirk of his was contagious.

"I don't know. I mean, I like poetry and sometimes I write short stories. But…my writing could never be good enough to be a play or anything."

Eli made a face and shook his head, "I'm sure you're writing is just fine."

Clare beamed at the compliment. Writing had always been a fun hobby of hers, but she never imagined she could ever help write the school play. She was only taking Drama for an elective credit. Maybe working on the school play with Eli would be fun. She decided to not write off the offer just yet.

Mrs. Winston passed out the course syllabus, and Clare glanced over it as the DVD was being set up. She noticed Eli's leg was bouncing up and down. Was he nervous?

"Are you okay?" She asked, curiously.

"Yeah," Eli shrugged, "I just get this way before people see my work. I mean, it's an alright play but it's not worth some of the hype surrounding it. The local newspaper even covered a story on it – can you believe that?"

"It's pretty impressive," Clare slid the syllabus into her notebook, "I'm looking forward to seeing it."

Mrs. Winston asked the class to quiet down, and turned out the lights as the DVD started up. As Clare watched the play, she found herself really impressed. The play was about a boy overcoming a mental illness. After a fight with his girlfriend, she hopped into her car and drove away angry. She had let her anger and emotions take away her concentration on the road, and crashed. She was killed in the accident, and her death caused the boy's mental illness to spiral further out of control. It was an intense play, and Clare had to admit, as impressive as it was, it scared her.

Once the curtain dropped and the actors came out for the bows, the classroom clapped. Clare joined in, and noticed the small blush creep across Eli's cheeks. For someone who was so cool and collected, he seemed pretty shy when it came to his play and all the attention it was receiving.

Mrs. Winston assigned some homework just before the bell rang – the class had to read a portion of Oedipus before tomorrow. Clare had never heard of the play, but Eli seemed excited. After the bell rang, and they were packing up their bags, Eli stopped her.

"What's your next class?" He asked.

"History," Clare glanced down at her schedule, "With Peterson."

"Okay," Eli nodded, "And after that?"

"English."

"With?"

"Brooks."

"Me too! How about after English, you come eat lunch with me. I can introduce you to the guys. I am sure you'll like them. Like I said, they're all kind of misfits. You'll fit right in."

Clare rolled her eyes at his smirk, "Thank you for your offer. I really liked your play. That was really amazing!"

"Thanks," Eli hiked his backpack on his shoulder, "It was a tough one to write. Like I said, when Mrs. Winston first asked me to write the play, I had no idea what to do. I even said no. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it'd be something I could at least try. The play got so much attention, I was contacted by a school in New York City. They want me to attend there next fall."

"Wow!" Clare exclaimed, "That's really…_wow_!"

Eli chuckled, "Yeah. I guess it is a little impressive, huh? So, you have fun in History and I will see you in English."

"Okay," Clare waved goodbye and headed to her locker. She tried to ignore the butterflies that were swarming in her stomach. She shook her head, trying to regain her composure. Ali was the one that always was boy-crazy. Not Clare. Now, here she was on the first day of school, and she was already falling for a guy she had just met.

She tried to keep herself calm, and collected. It wouldn't do her any good to focus on some silly little crush. But Eli was just so…so unlike anyone else she had ever met. His play, and his personality haunted her. She found herself looking forward to English class and lunch with Eli.

_I don't know what's wrong with me_, she thought to herself as she headed to her History classroom, _I mean look at me! I have a flower in my hair! I don't usually go for guys in all black who write plays about mental illness and death. What in the world am I doing? _

History class went by quickly. The teacher just passed out the course outline and explained about tests and grades and class projects. Clare found herself staring at the clock, waiting for English class to come quickly.

Finally, the bell rang and Clare headed quickly to her English class. When she arrived at the classroom, she grabbed a seat towards the back and waited for Eli to arrive. She couldn't believe how she was feeling or how she was acting. Clare had never really paid much attention to guys in the past. She always thought guys stood in the way of grades and friends. Now, she found herself absolutely infatuated with Eli Goldsworthy. She had never met anyone like him, and he both terrified and fascinated her.

The classroom door opened and Eli strode inside. He ran a hand through his messy hair, and took a seat next to Clare, "Hey," he grinned at her, "How was your History class?"

"It was alright," Clare tried to sound confident, "Degrassi really isn't as bad as I was afraid it would be. I still miss my old high school and my friends, but so far, Degrassi isn't _completely_ awful."

Eli chuckled, "It's got its issues, but it's not too bad."

"So who are we going to be eating lunch with?" Clare asked, curiously.

"Well, there's Adam – he's really awesome. You'll love him – everyone does. Then there's Drew, Adam's brother. Sometimes he eats with us, when he's not busy with his jock friends, or with his crazy girlfriend, Katie. Don't get on her bad side though, because she is the class president and pretty much runs the school," Eli rolled his eyes, "I don't really care what she has to say about me though. Um…then there's Bianca. She's really awesome too."

"I can't wait to meet everyone," Clare said, trying to keep her nerves at bay. But she was transparent to Eli.

"Don't be nervous. They're all really nice. We don't bite, I promise," he smirked, "Unless of course…you want us to."

"Don't be a creep," Clare rolled her eyes.

"Ah, but 'creep' is my middle name."

Clare shook her head, "You're impossible."

"I try," Eli smirked again, and ran a hand through his hair.

Mr. Brooks came into the classroom and introduced himself. The syllabus was passed out, and an essay was assigned over what everyone did during their summer. Before Clare knew it, the bell was ringing and she was following Eli to the school cafeteria.

"Did you bring your own lunch?" He asked her.

"No, I didn't."

"That's alright. I'll stand in line with you and make sure you get something that _somewhat_ resembles food," he grinned and led her to the cafeteria. The whole cafeteria was packed with students, and buzzing with conversation, "We usually eat outside," Eli explained, "It's quieter."

As they waited in the long line of the cafeteria, Clare tried to tell Eli that she didn't need him to wait with her, "You can go ahead and eat," she urged, "You don't have to wait with me. I can just come find you if you…"

"It's fine," Eli objected, "I can wait. So, you and your mom moved here because of a messy divorce? Or is that too painful of a subject?"

"It's fine," Clare shrugged, "It's tough, but I'm working on getting over it. My dad…he had never really been around much anyways. Now we know the real reason – his secretary," Clare shook her head, "Mom wanted to leave and never look back, so here we are."

"I'm sorry about all of that," Eli said earnestly, "It must suck to have to move here and leave everything behind."

"Yeah, but Degrassi isn't so bad. I'm…I'm glad I met you."

"I'm you met me too," Eli beamed at the compliment, "So, will you help me work on the school play? Any little bit will help."

"Yeah," Clare agreed, "I think I can help you. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it."

"For starters, a cookie from the lunch line would be…"

"Eli!"

"You said _whatever_ I needed," Eli reminded her.

"Fine," Clare gave in, "I'll get you a cookie. So, tell me about that play. What was it called?"

"Monster," Eli folded his arms over his chest, and Clare couldn't help but think of him as a turtle retreating into its shell, "Did you really like it?"

"It was really good," Clare said, but then added, "But to be honest…it kind of scared me a bit."

"It's supposed to," Eli shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Why?"

"To make people aware…to make them realize what goes on. To make them…wake up."

"I can see how it'd spark all that attention," Clare said, grabbing a tray from the rack as the line moved further, "It was an impressive play. Do you think you'll be able to keep it up with this new play you've been asked to write?"

"We'll see," he smirked that infamous smirk of his, and Clare began to wonder if that was a signature thing of his.

The line moved forward, and Eli helped Clare pick out what was going to be edible – steer clear of the mystery meat, he had advised, and always go for the chicken. Clare upheld her agreement of purchasing Eli a cookie, and after she paid out for her lunch, followed Eli outside to the table where his friends sat.

"I'm nervous," she admitted, as they neared the table.

"Psh," Eli scoffed, "Like I said, we don't bite…well, _they_ don't," and with that, he chomped his teeth at her, making Clare roll her eyes, but laugh.

"Guys," Eli announced, "I want you to meet someone. This is Clare – she just transferred here," then he shot them a look before adding, "_Be nice_."

"Hi, everyone!" Clare waved, trying not to seem as shy as she felt.

"Hey," a boy wearing a baseball cap waved, "So Eli, does this mean you're relinquishing your celibacy sabbatical?"

"_Adam_!" Eli hissed, "Shut up!"

"He hasn't dated anyone in a while," Adam said to Clare, "But to tell you the truth, this kid _really _needs a girlfriend."

"I'm going to kill you," Eli said, matter-of-factly, as he sat down next to the boy, "Clare, this pain in the ass is Adam."

"Pleased to meet you," Adam grinned.

Clare couldn't help but return the smile, "It's nice to meet you too, Adam."

"Ignore them," Clare turned her attention to the girl who had just spoken, "They're a bunch of six year olds," the girl with curly brown hair rolled her eyes, "I'm Bianca."

"Nice to meet you, Bianca," Clare slid down in the seat next to her.

"Excuse me?" Eli raised an insulted eyebrow, "I'm five, not six, thank you very much!"

"How could I have forgotten?" Bianca sighed, rolled her eyes, and bit into her sandwich.

As Clare was about to pop a bite of chicken in her mouth, she couldn't help but be grateful. Maybe moving to Degrassi wasn't such a bad thing after all…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"_Seriously_?" Clare eyed the shiny black hearse, "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Nope. Meet Morty. My pride and joy," Eli used the sleeve of his jacket to polish a speck on the hood, "Isn't he great?"

"You drive a hearse?" Clare was still trying to gather her thoughts. Eli Goldsworthy was by far the strangest person she had ever met, "I-I don't really know what to say to this."

"Then don't," Eli shrugged and held open the passenger door for her, "Just get in."

"When you asked me if you could drive me home…I was expecting something more like a…station wagon or something."

"Edwards, you insult me," Eli feigned a look of horror, "What do you take me for, huh? A _normal_ person? Gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon before you _ever_ call me normal."

He shut the door then walked around to the driver's side and slid in beside her, "I've had Morty for a few years now," he explained, "He's my pride and joy. How many kids can say they drive a hearse, huh?"

"Not many," Clare answered, honestly, "Are you…going to drive to some dark alley and…and kill me?"

Eli shrugged, "Haven't decided yet."

"Oh," Clare folded her arms over her chest and stared out the tinted window, "_That's_ reassuring."

Eli grinned and turned on the radio, "What should we listen to? Please tell me you have good taste in music, or else I might really have to start considering that dark alley thing. Metallica? Everyone likes Metallica."

"I have never really listened to them," Clare admitted.

"Wow. Alright, well I guess there's a first time for everything," Eli popped a CD into the player, "_Enter Sandman_. One of my favorites, but a little too commercialized. Everyone recognizes this song. I prefer songs that go a bit…overlooked."

Eli turned up the volume and the hearse began to vibrate. Clare had never listened to her music so loud, and she was uncomfortable, but didn't want to say anything, "I like it."

"There's some hope for you yet," Eli grinned, "Okay, where am I taking you to?"

Clare gave him the address, and the hearse violently peeled out of the parking lot. Clare was shocked at how reckless he drove – weaving in and out of traffic, honking at everything, flipping practically every other car off, and not to mention speeding. He must have been going at least twenty miles over the speed limit.

"Scared, yet?" Eli raised an eyebrow.

"No," Clare lied, causing Eli to smirk, "Should I be?"

"Of course," Eli slammed on the accelerator. Clare felt her stomach lurch as she glanced over at the speedometer.

"We're going _one hundred and fifteen miles an hour_?" She shrieked.

"Ha," Eli chuckled, "You _are_ scared."

"And _you_ are crazy."

"You got that right," Eli grinned, touching the break ever-so slightly, bringing the speed down to eighty, "Is this better?" He asked.

"A bit," Clare sighed, "How many wrecks have you gotten in?"

"None," Eli shrugged, "Surprising, I know. Not that I haven't tried."

"Tried?"

"Long story."

Clare felt her stomach do a summersault, but she decided not to press the matter, "And how many tickets have you received?"

"Seven, my lucky number."

"_Seven_?" Clare exclaimed, "What is wrong with you?"

"Lots of things. This your street?"

"Yeah…the third house on the left is mine," Clare pointed to the two-story, redbrick house, "Yup, that's it. Home sweet home."

"Well, it's not _so_ bad," Eli shrugged, "You made it sound more like the dungeon of Elizabeth Bathory."

Clare chuckled, impressed that he knew of the woman who was the most fascinating historical figure to her, "It may not be that bad," Clare rolled her eyes, "But it still is pretty awful. It'll never be my home."

"Aw, that's no way to think," Eli squinted at the house, "There's got to be something good about it."

"There's not."

"What about that rosebush?" Eli's eyes landed on the scraggly pink-budded rosebush, "That's kind of pretty, I guess."

"Eli, a rosebush isn't going to make me like living here," Clare sighed, and swept the yard with her eyes, "I suppose I should head inside and help Mom with fixing dinner. Thank you for driving me home."

"No problem," Eli shoved his hands into his pockets, "Do you want me to drive you to school tomorrow?"

"Um…sure," Clare was taken aback by the offer, "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll pick you up tomorrow. See ya, Edwards."

"Bye, Eli," Clare gave a small wave.

She headed up the porch steps to the front door. Again, Eli surprised and impressed her – he waited to make sure she had gotten inside before peeling out of the driveway, the tires screeching down the street.

Clare headed upstairs first. She needed to call Ali and tell her about the strange and exciting boy she had just me, and found herself falling dangerously hard, and dangerously fast, for. Clare tossed the backpack onto her bed, and dug around in her purse to find her cellphone. Just as she was about to call Ali, her mom knocked on the door.

"Clare? Can I come in?"

Clare rolled her eyes, but said yes. Her mom came in and folded her arms over her chest, "Clare, who was that boy? You told me one of your new friends was going to bring you home this afternoon. Then, you arrive in a hearse with rock music blasting? This is so unlike you Clare."

"Mom, you were spying on us?"

"I just wanted to see who this friend was. Clare, he drives a hearse."

"I know, Mom."

"And that music was _way _too loud. And don't even get me started on how he was driving. I don't want you in a car with that boy again, Clare Edwards. He is far too reckless and far too dangerous for you."

"Mom, he's taking me to school in the morning."

"Well you just call him up and tell him you already have a ride."

A thought flashed through Clare's mind, and she quickly said, "Aren't you happy for me, Mom? You drag me away from my friends and all I have known! I am actually making friends here, and you're trying to take them away from me too?"

"Clare…" her mother shook her head, "That's not what I am trying to do…"

"I know what I am doing, Mom. Eli…he's like no one I have ever met before."

"I'll say."

"Mom! Just give him a chance. He's just a friend. He's super smart and he wrote last year's school play and is going to NYC in the fall on a scholarship because of the play. He's really smart, Mom. And he's nice too."

"Invite him over for dinner Friday night. Then I'll judge if I want you to be around him or not."

"_Mother_!"

"What? It's a reasonable request."

"Fine," Clare gave in, "I guess I can ask him tomorrow."

"Good! I am looking forward to meeting him, Clare."

Clare rolled her eyes, not quite believing what her Mom had just said, "If I don't die of mortification first!"


End file.
